


Knife's Edge

by brookebond



Series: Inceptiversary 2017 [15]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur and Eames play dangerous games together, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 19:05:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11720607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookebond/pseuds/brookebond
Summary: Eames arrives at his hotel and finds he has a visitor.





	Knife's Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Knifeplay square on my Kink/Trope Bingo Card.

Arthur was sitting in a chair, waiting for Eames when he opened the door. It wasn’t really a surprise anymore to find Arthur lounging in Eames’ hotel room. After the twentieth time, it had kind of lost the shock value. But seeing Arthur slouched in an armchair, legs spread wide, made Eames weak in the knees.

“You’re late.”

“Had I known to expect you, I would’ve made more of an effort to lose that tail,” Eames muttered, sliding the chain over the door so no one would be able to interrupt them. Whatever Arthur had planned, Eames didn’t want any distractions. Not even of the room service persuasion.

“Eames,” Arthur replied coolly, “I’m not interested in your games.”

Eames swallowed hard, taking pleasure in the way Arthur’s eyes gleamed with a hint of danger. He had almost forgotten about this side of Arthur and was willing to push things to see just how far Arthur was willing to go.

“That’s a pity, darling. I’m in a playful mood.” Eames grinned, trying to hide the fact that his cock was starting to fill purely from the way Arthur was looking at him, his head tilted down ever so slightly.

“Stand by the bed,” Arthur commanded.

It took Eames a few seconds to actually move, but he did, noting the pleased smile he got.

“Turn around.”

Eames raised a brow, smirking at Arthur but did as he was told without comment. It wasn’t unusual for Arthur to take control during their trysts. Eames would never admit just how much he actually enjoyed handing the reins over. There was a small thrill in not knowing what was coming next. Arthur had more imagination than Eames had ever given him credit for and Eames always looked forward to whatever Arthur had planned.

“Don’t move,” Arthur murmured, trailing a hand down Eames’ back.

He straightened, swallowing hard, his heart pounding against his chest. There were a thousand scenarios running through his head but nothing prepared him for cool metal pressing against his cheek.

Eames flinched, turning his head to look at what Arthur was doing.

Arthur tutted and gently pushed Eames’ chin until he faced the bed again. “It would be a really bad idea for you to move right now.”

The low timbre of Arthur’s voice sent a shiver through Eames and he tried really hard to stay still, even as his shirt was untucked from his trousers. He clenched his hands, desperately controlling the urge to face Arthur so he could see everything that was happening.

“Arthur,” he said, the name coming out rougher than he had intended. Normally, Eames was able to maintain some control over himself, but with the loss of actually watching Arthur, his mind was spinning a mile a minute, forcing his arousal through the roof. He was pretty bloody certain he had never been this achingly hard in his entire life. The anticipation alone was going to kill him. “Please.”

"Be careful what you wish for," Arthur murmured into Eames' ear, pressing his hips against Eames' arse as the knife trailed down Eames' front.

Eames sucked in a harsh breath, eyes fluttering shut at the feel of Arthur’s erection digging into him. He wanted to push back, to grind against Arthur, but his shirt was pulled taut, dragging his attention to his front.

“What—?” he croaked at the exact same time the knife slipped beneath his shirt, cold and sharp as the tip skated over his stomach, an exquisite tingle adding to the tearing sound that filled the air around them.

If he could have focused on anything but the press of Arthur against him, Eames would have been outraged that his favourite shirt was currently hanging off his shoulders, a neat slice running alongside the buttons.

“You’re being so good,” Arthur purred, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot just behind Eames’ ear. Goosebumps tingled over his skin, a shiver running through him as Arthur slid down his body.

Arthur tugged the torn shirt off Eames, kissing the dip of his lower back and grabbing Eames’ trousers.

He had a second to wonder if he should undo his pants before he felt the cool blade sliding under his waistband. The knife twisted, sharp edge digging into his arse for one glorious moment before the tip dragged down his thigh, cutting through trousers and pants in one foul swoop. They pooled at his feet, Arthur kissing his way up Eames’ thigh to bite at a cheek.

Eames squealed at the sudden sensation, trying to squirm away until firm hands gripped his hips.

“Turn around.”


End file.
